


Mouth In The Shape Of The Letter O

by jedusaur



Category: Bandom
Genre: Early in Canon, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-22
Updated: 2011-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-22 23:17:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedusaur/pseuds/jedusaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon is so sure that he's being brave and doing the right thing by declaring his crush--like everyone says, <i>just tell him how you feel</i>--that it's a little embarrassing to watch. It would be way too easy to cut him down, easier than Brendon realizes, but Spencer isn't about pouring drama all over the floor just to watch people slip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mouth In The Shape Of The Letter O

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [virginity meme](http://la-dissonance.dreamwidth.org/118616.html). Title from They Might Be Giants' "No," because I'm a horrible person who hears dirty things in the lyrics of children's songs.

Brendon smells like smoothies. The scent of bananas and strawberries lingers in the air around him the way the scent of artificial cherry lip gloss clings to Spencer's little sisters, but stickier and less intentional. There aren't any spills on his clothes that Spencer can see. It's just an aura, permeating him like his aura of false confidence.

The banana usually comes off with a shower. The false confidence never does.

"I like you, Spencer," Brendon says, a little too loud, a little too defiant.

"I like you too, B," says Spencer, already bracing himself for what comes next. Brendon doesn't do subtle, and he doesn't do half-assed either. He'll waffle inside his head, but once he makes a decision out loud, he doesn't stop reiterating it until he's sure everyone knows about it. That way he can't change his mind. It's a defense mechanism, maybe, against self-doubt.

"No, I mean, I _like_ you, Spencer."

Brendon is so sure that he's being brave and doing the right thing by declaring his crush--like everyone says, _just tell him how you feel_ \--that it's a little embarrassing to watch. It would be way too easy to cut him down, easier than Brendon realizes, but Spencer isn't about pouring drama all over the floor just to watch people slip.

"I know," he says. He waits until he sees Brendon realize that he didn't say "I like you too" before turning away to let Brendon recover. In a minute he'll turn back, bring up something else, pretend nothing happened and hope Brendon will let it go.

Brendon doesn't let it go. Brendon wouldn't let go of the business end of a welding torch if he thought it had something he wanted.

"I've never had sex," he says quietly. "I just... want to lose it to someone I care about."

Spencer cares about Brendon, he does, but he knows how this goes. Puddles of drama, everywhere drama, and no Wet Floor signs in sight.

"You'll find someone," he says, and then, finally, mercifully, Brendon lets him change the subject.

**.two.**

"Are you attracted to me?"

Six months later, and Spencer hoped this was over, but apparently it's not. They're lying next to each other in the dark on Brendon's frameless mattress, because sometimes it's fun to pretend his apartment represents a choice, a move toward independence rather than away from the lack of it.

And now Spencer has to choose between drama and lying. Joy.

He tries to dodge the question. "C'mon, dude. You know it would be a bad idea."

"I don't know that," says Brendon. "But that's not what I asked."

Spencer wishes he could lie. He can't. "Yes."

"Then why not?"

Because Spencer doesn't want to be his fucking training wheels, that's why not. He doesn't say that. "Drop it, B."

A few long seconds later, Brendon says, "I don't understand."

Spencer lets those be the last words of the conversation. They're appropriate enough.

**.three.**

Getting signed by Pete Wentz doesn't happen suddenly. For weeks after he hears them play it's _we'll see_ , then it turns into _probably_ , then it's _just have to finish up some paperwork_. When the official announcement finally happens, it feels like Spencer's sixteenth birthday--he's been so excited for it for so long that heading off to record an album, like heading off to the DMV to test for his driver's license, just feels like a long-awaited inevitability. Of course it was going to happen, the process wouldn't have dragged out so long if it was just going to end with them not getting signed.

It's not like that for Brendon. So many carpets have been pulled out from under Brendon's feet that he can't really believe this one is going to fly. He spends three months convinced that everything is going to fall through at the last minute. And then it doesn't, and they're signed and walking into a tiny apartment in Maryland, and Brendon turns around and kisses Spencer full on the mouth.

Spencer isn't going to let this happen, but he's spent too much time staring surreptitiously at Brendon's lips to pass up the chance to try them out. Ryan and Brent are busy trying to get the TV to work and don't notice the kiss, or Brendon gently pulling Spencer back into one of the bedrooms. Spencer lets him, because he doesn't want to talk about this in front of their bandmates, but once Brendon's got the door closed he says, "No."

Brendon has a killer puppy dog gaze, honed by years of being a youngest child. It looks silly when he's trying to use it, all overexaggerated pouts and eyelash-batting, but it's painfully effective when he's not doing it on purpose. "I want you," he says, but it sounds more resigned than pleading.

"Don't make me go all Jagger on you, bitch," says Spencer. When that doesn't earn him a smile, he holds out his arms. "C'mere, B."

Brendon lets Spencer hug him, squeezes back a little, and steps back long before he's done. Spencer can tell that he needs more touch, but doesn't push it. He doesn't like being cruel.

"We're gonna make it," Spencer says. "We're a success story already."

Brendon nods, and they go back out to the living room to mock Ryan for wrapping tinfoil around the television antenna like the dumbass he is.

**.four.**

Spencer doesn't actually expect groupies. He knows how bands work. The lead singer gets the groupies, and the lead guitarist gets the leftovers. But Ryan is socially maladjusted enough to scare some of them in Spencer's direction, to his combined amusement and dismay. He's willing to be an asshole if they won't go away, though. Brendon isn't so good at that. He talks to them, smiles at them, gets their hopes up, and then doesn't know how to let them down.

He ends up showing a girl around the tour bus once, while Spencer lies in his bunk trying to sleep. Spencer kind of wants to bash his head against the wall, because asking Brendon to show her around the bus is half a step down from just spreading her legs and making kissy faces at him on the obviousness scale, and yet Brendon is actually pointing out the features in the kitchen and showing her how to turn the table into a bench like a complete dork. Eventually she loses her patience and just shoves him down on the newly-converted bench. Spencer really can't blame her.

That doesn't mean he wants to listen to their smoochy noises, though. He gets up and grabs a bottle of water from the mini-fridge, walking right past them twice. There's an awkward silence after he gets back in his bunk, and Brendon says, "Um. It was nice to meet you, Amy. I gotta..." and the front door is closing behind her.

Brendon pulls back the curtain of Spencer's bunk. The bottle of water is sitting on the ledge next to the mattress, unopened. Brendon takes a long look at it. Spencer doesn't make eye contact.

"I'll wait for you," Brendon says. "If you ask me to, I will. But you can't expect me to wait when all you've said is no."

It makes Spencer very uncomfortable when Brendon is the more mature of the two of them.

**.five.**

They don't bring it up for another year. Brendon is still nice to the groupies, but he doesn't bring them back to the bus, and if he does anything with them elsewhere he doesn't mention it.

They're famous, and they've been famous for a while. Spencer doesn't really care about artistic vision and groundbreaking style and all the rest of the shit that matters to Ryan. He just wants to make good music that people like. It takes him a while to realize it, but once he does, it won't go away: he's well-known enough that if anything happened to Panic, he wouldn't have any trouble at all finding another band to play with. He's got money, he's got connections, and he's got a career.

If getting together with Brendon fucked up the band, it would suck. But it might not suck as much as not getting together with Brendon.

The next time they're in a hotel and Brendon starts fucking around, throwing shit at the back of Spencer's head and laughing like an asshole, Spencer doesn't retaliate by throwing shit back at him. Instead, he tackles Brendon onto one of the beds and wrestles with him, full-body contact like they haven't had alone in a long time. When Brendon gets hard, Spencer doesn't shy away. He pulls Brendon closer, and when Brendon kisses him, he doesn't say no.

They fuck with the lights on, rubbing sweat and smiles against each other's skin. Spencer is gentle with his fingers and gentler with his cock, until Brendon rolls on top and takes charge like Spencer hoped he would. Brendon wraps a loose fist around the head of his cock when he comes, cupping the semen in his fingers and reaching for a box of tissues, careful not to get any of it on Spencer's skin. It's stupid and thoughtful of him, and Spencer comes with a grin on his face.

Brendon deals with the condom and then cuddles into the crook of Spencer's arm. "I waited," he says. "Even though you're a dick who wouldn't tell me you wanted me to. That was my first time."

Spencer holds him close, even though they're both sticky and overheated. "Yeah," he says. "Mine too."


End file.
